


Dudley Dursley and the Curse of Snake Face

by hpaufan (goodtea)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco is a Dragon, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Dudley Dursley, M/M, Redeemed Dudley Dursley, VOLDEMORT IS A DICK
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:28:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodtea/pseuds/hpaufan
Summary: Dudley Dursley has been kidnapped by Voldemort and Draco is a dragon. Yeah.And other stuff happens.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look, it's the ship no one asked for and yet still somehow exists. This is basically an extended drabble that I work on in between my slightly longer story and other responsibilities. I don't honestly expect it to get any attention, I'm just posting it because I'm writing it anyway. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm thinking it'll be about six chapters?
> 
> unbeta'd

Dudley Dursley’s luck had run out. He’d always worried it would happen someday. He just hadn’t thought it’d be so final.

“Kill him,” said the man with the snake face and grey skin.

And for the first time in two weeks, Dudley was dragged outside. If it wasn’t for the purpose of being murdered, Dudley might have enjoyed the feeling of the sun on his face. 

The backyard was barren of any plant life. Instead a water trough that looked much too large for any horse stood to one side while a large animal pen took up most of the rest of the yard. The pen shuddered as whatever was kept inside banged up against the iron bars that kept it caged. From his vantage point of being dragged on the ground between two Death Eaters- funny gang name, that- Dudley thought he saw a flash of scales and a curl of smoke. Just as Dudley decided that at least death was probably better than finding out whatever was in that pen, his jailers turned and started dragging him towards it. “He’s still got some fat on him. Should make a nice snack for the Lord’s stead.” And so Dudley’s luck continued to run out.

Dudley wanted to struggle, but they had cast some spell on him when they moved him from the dungeon that morning. “ _ Stupify _ ” and he hadn’t been able to move a muscle since. Bloody magic. He was about to die at the jaws of some beast and he couldn’t even shout about it. 

The pen shuddered some more and this time Dudley heard what sounded distinctly like a roar. Ten feet away and fire spouted out between the bars and if he could Dudley would have whimpered. As it were, silent tears rolled down his face. The two men dragging him dropped him.

“This is rather melodramatic, isn’t it Pence?” spoke one.

“What do you recommend then, Mulciber?” spoke the other.

“We should throw him in, then take the spell off. Should be more fun to hear him scream,” said the one called Mulciber. 

“Aye, he could put up a struggle that way,” said the one called Pence. They nodded in agreement.

And so that was how Dudley Dursley found himself thrown in a pen with a large pearly white dragon, terrified out of his mind and sure he was about to die. The great beast wrapped itself around him as soon as he was thrown in and Dudley felt the spell leave him. 

He couldn’t help it- he screamed. The beast was massive, its neck nearly as thick as Dudley himself. He’d lost some weight during his two week stay in the dungeons, but not  _ that  _ much. He caught sight of its claws and knew even an accidental swipe would be enough to kill him. The panic that ran through him then was nothing compared to the absolute terror he felt when he finally saw its face. The jaws looked large enough to swallow him whole or in two easy bites. Large, impassive grey eyes stared back at him from behind an elegant snout. Dudley had never felt so much like a bug. He shut his eyes, unable to watch his own end.  

He took a breath and waited for it to come. And waited, and waited. When death did not come, he opened his eyes again. The dragon was still curled around him, obscuring Dudley’s vision of the two Death Eaters outside. However, the dragon was not paying attention to him. It was facing the bars, seeming to wait out the two Death Eaters outside. 

“Figure it’s eaten him then?” asked Pence.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see anything. Did you, Pence?”replied Mulciber.

Pence shrugged. “Couldn’t see anything after it got him. He did scream though. Figures that means it ate him.”

Mulciber seemed uncertain and shivered as a chill breeze entered the air. Despite it being mid-Autumn, winter was fast approaching. That seemed to decide it for him. “Let’s go back inside then. I’m not freezing my ass off worrying for some squib.” And they went back inside the rather run down house they’d held Dudley in for two weeks.

And there was that word again. Squib. They’d been calling him that the entire time, as if it was supposed to mean something to him. The way they said it was so like a slur that Dudley suspected it was one indeed, just not one he was familiar with. Harry would know what it meant. And perhaps if he and his parents had been kinder to the boy, he might have cared enough to rescue them. The snake face had mentioned that he’d initially captured them to lure Harry out. To no surprise of the Dursleys, it hadn’t worked. Dudley’s one comfort was that his parents were still alive, even if they were still locked up in the dungeon of the decrepit house. 

And somehow he was still alive. With his two jailers inside the house, Dudley’s full attention swung back to the dragon. Only the dragon didn’t seem to care for him. It gave Dudley what he could only think of as a glance and then lay its head down, facing away from him. He could no longer make out its face as its haunches and wings stood in the way of his vision.

“Not going to eat me, then?” he queried, a little breathlessly. He could hardly believe that he dared ask that question and could believe even less that he was still alive to ask it. Suddenly self conscious, Dudley wiped at his cheeks with the tatters of his sweater, trying in vain to dry his tears. They just couldn’t stop falling. 

The dragon did what seemed the dragon equivalent of a shrug- its front haunches and wings lifted and fell back again- but didn’t seem interested in replying beyond that. Not that it could.  _ Could _ dragons speak english? Dudley suspected not.

And if it wasn’t going to eat him, what was it going to do with him? It’s not like Dudley could escape the pen. Iron bars turned the enclosure into a cage, stretching across the ceiling and down the walls and into the ground. Dudley was still a prisoner, only now no one knew he was alive. 

And even that seemed to matter less and less as exhaustion took over. Now that his adrenaline was crashing Dudley could feel his eyelids drooping. And laying against the dragon  _ was _ awfully warm. Before Dudley knew it, and against his better judgement, he was asleep. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, I'm alive! And this silly AU lives as well. Finally edited this chapter, so up it goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is especially short, but the next one is especially long.

Dudley woke slowly for the first time in two weeks. He’d gotten into the habit of startling awake, in a daze and ready to fight off his captors. Or curl into himself in a ball, more like. But surrounded by warm and breathing fresh air for the first time in two weeks, Dudley woke slowly. If it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of his bed, Dudley might have thought he was back at Privet Drive, his window cracked open because his mother always turned the heat up too much. Or, as he registered the rise and fall of the object he was on, perhaps he was on his friend Eustice’s boat, on a week long boating trip up and down the coast of the Isles. Only he had been twelve when he went on that boating venture with Eustice and his family, and Dudley firmly remembered arriving back home and all the subsequent years since. The source of the rocking of his bed came back to him in the slowly, a gentle nagging on his mind that brought him out of his sleep.

Slowly, the memories of the past two weeks, and past 24 hours came back.

_ Oh. I’m sleeping on a dragon, aren’t I? Awfully comfy, considering the scales and all _ , Dudley thought to himself. And  _ that _ thought finally woke him up. Dudley opened his eyes, not daring to move. White scales and daylight filtered through the cage ceiling met his eyesight first. 

Dudley took quick stock of himself. He was awake, he was alive, and he was warm. Not thinking, Dudley raised a hand and brushed it against the scales that he rested on. They were soft and smooth, warm to the touch. Dudley made the mistake of brushing his hand the other way against the flow of the scales and promptly cursed, cutting his hand open on the first scale he brushed against. 

More awake now, Dudley sat up and hissed at the pain. That seemed enough to catch the attention of the dragon as he heard a rumble and looked up to two large, gray eyes studying him. Dudley froze  and held his breathe. The dragon hadn’t killed him yesterday, but perhaps it hadn’t been hungry? Maybe now it was and it would finish the job. Warm air brushed against him and Dudley closed his eyes against it. He counted to ten silently in his head, waiting for fire or pain or  _ something _ . When he reached ten and then kept counting and reached twenty with nothing happening, Dudley dared open his eyes again. No eyes met him this time. The dragon was already bored of him and facing outward, toward the doors, as if it was waiting. 

Dudley studied the beast. It was large. The size three or four horses, easily. Yet elegant. This was not the clumsy, pot-bellied dragon of children’s shows. Smooth scales that gleamed in the light covered a long and lean frame, with wide wings that could easily wrap around Dudley a few times. This was a creature of myth, the type of monster that inspired whispers and hushed breathes. This was a creature that inspired legends.

And so Dudley responded to it the way he responded to all things that inspired awe and made him feel small and unimportant. Dudley stood and marched up to it, or it’s head rather, and demanded its attention. 

“Oye! Dragon! Don’t suppose you know the way out?”

The beast turned to face him slowly. He wasn’t sure if it was unimpressed or contemplating eating him for breakfast, but Dudley figured he was a dead man anyway. If he was going to die one way or another, he refused to be cowed while he did it. Mostly. Whimpering and crying while he’d been held in the dungeon didn’t count. That had only been a  _ maybe  _ death, by starvation or if his captors got bored enough. Facing a dragon certainly felt like certain death, so that counted more.

But the creature only huffed at him once, looking annoyed of all things, and turned back to watching the outdoors. Boldly, Dudley clambered over its limbs, careful of the scales now, climbing up onto its broad back for a better position to bother the dragon at. He figured it couldn’t ignore him if he was  _ on  _ it.

“Did you hear me? I don’t belong here! I’m not even magical! I’m hungry and tired and I want out of this cage NOW.” When the dragon didn’t show any sign of responding Dudley continued on. He hadn’t died yet, why should he stop? “I’m only here because of my bloody cousin Potter. Whatever the Death Eaters are mad at him for, I didn’t do it!” The dragon flicked an ear at the mention of Potter, but otherwise seemed content to ignore Dudley entirely. 

Dudley continued on. “You’re magic, aren’t you? Just magic us out!” 

The dragon huffed, sending a glance at Dudley that seemed irritated, and that jut set Dudley off more. 

“Don’t turn away from me! I know you can understand me! You’ve understood me just fine so far! I shouldn’t have to suffer just ‘cause you magic folk can’t keep your issues to yourselves! Oye!  _ I am not afraid of you! _ ” 

Despite his words, Dudley was a little shocked when the dragon turned back to him with a look that could only be described as  _ assessing _ . Or it would be described that way, if Dudley actually knew the word. As it were, Dudley’s vocabulary was limited, and he just knew he was being analyzed. 

“Don’t look at me like-like that! At least I’m coming up with some ideas of what to do here! You’re just sitting!” Laying would be a more accurate description, Dudley supposed, but he wasn’t about to correct himself mid-sentence. “Great lot of help you’ve been! So far the only thing you’ve done right is not eat me! And since I’m stuck in this cage with you because of it, even that wasn’t quite smart, was it? Less room for you to wiggle around in, and I’m still trapped and miserable.”

He had the full attention of the dragon now, and with an active audience Dudley got more bold, going for a full rant, “And as long as I have your attention, I’ll tell you a real smart idea! Soon as they open the cage the next time, you stick your great bloody neck out and breathe some fire on them! You’re a dragon, what can they do? Throw their silly little sticks at you? We’ll be eating roast Death Eater by the end of the night!” Dudley frowned. “Or you’ll be eating roast Death Eater. Been through quite a lot meself, but I don’t think I’m ready for cannibalism. Maybe in another day or two, but not today.”

And the dragon huffed out a  _ laugh _ . Dudley stared. Dudley knew it was a laugh because it flowed in and out like a laugh and sounded like a laugh, only he couldn't believe the hulking and elegant beast was laughing. Dudley felt a sweat break out on his back, but decided not to let it show. He had the monster  _ laughing.  _ He’d made a  _ dragon _ laugh. 

He repeated a mantra in his head that he’d used since grade school, since the first time his teachers reprimanded him for being behind the learning curve of the rest of his class and he came home with a letter crying. His mum had taken him into her arms and soothed him, telling him what he told himself now.  _ He was Dudley Dursley. His parents loved him and he could do anything.  _

“Sound like a plan, then dragon? Roast Death Eater for dinner tonight?” 

The dragon rumbled and Dudley decided that sounded like a yes, and he settled down against the beast’s warm neck to wait. 


End file.
